


Conservation of the Species

by Pakeha



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: 19 y/o Danny, Anal, Anal Fingering, Animal Death, Caretaking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time, Ghost Sex, Humor, Hunting, M/M, Mild D/s, Multiple Orgasms, Praise Kink, Robot Kink, Robot Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Sort Of, Strength Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pakeha/pseuds/Pakeha
Summary: Finally defeating his enemy doesn’t seem to do as much for Skulker as he always imagined it would. After Danny escapes his clutches Skulker decides to change up his plans for how to deal with the Halfa, much to Danny’s confusion.Too bad Skulker forgets just how unpredictable Phantom can be.





	Conservation of the Species

**Author's Note:**

> I literally started writing this 5 years ago and only just today finally finished it up. Still a pairing I enjoy that is way under represented in fandom. Hope you enjoy the 2000’s snark.

1

‘He’s too _thin._ ’ is the first thing Skulker thinks when he tumbles the unconscious ghost boy out of his net. It seems that when Phantom’s not puffed up and fighting back, he deflates to something disconcertingly small and Ill-proportioned. 

‘Juvenile.’ The Collector’s mind supplies before he can help himself and he scowls at the word, clenching his massive fists to ground himself as he floats over to where the lanky pile of a teenager is slumped on the floor of a cage that’s been custom built for him. 

Skulker doesn’t like the look of him like this. 

‘Doesn’t feel right.‘ Something inside him declares, vehement, but he snaps the lid to the cage shut anyway, activating the locking mechanism which will keep his prize contained. No ecto blasts will break these bars, no halfa powers will allow him to faze through. 

He’s stuck. Trapped. Secured. 

‘Good.’ The giant hunter humphs to himself as he drifts away, gathering together the massive quantities of gear he’d had to employ in the capture. He has guns to clean and chambers to reload and pulses to recharge and the mindless activity is welcome. 

He will skin the boy later. 

He turns off the lights in his Trophy room as he leaves. 

-

The Ghost Boy makes his escape in less than an hour, employing some new explosive ability which takes half of The Hunter’s house with him.

Skulker is furious. 

Mostly. 

He also feels something a lot like relief, which, of course, only infuriates him further. 

He throws himself into the new chase, taking to the skies over Amityville to meet his enemy, letting his rage fuel him. 

If, when they meet, his punches fall a hair short of his usual violence, Danny at least does not seem to notice. 

Most of The Hunter’s best equipment is dismantled for cleaning and has been hastily abandoned in his lair so the fight ends up being short. Skulker lets a few powerful blows from his quarry drive him from above the treetops down into the pavement and he’s okay with calling it a day. 

He returns home, and refuses to dwell on the satisfaction the dents in his metal chest give him. 

2

For a week he tweaks his equipment. He harasses Technus to upgrade his body. He skulks about the grounds around Vlad’s manor. He stuffs a chimera. He skins a lion. 

And still he finds himself on the eighth day with his metal teeth aching for how hard he’s been clenching his jaw, trying to forget the look of the boy - twisted and abandoned on the floor of his cage. 

Damn it. _Damn it._

He packs a crossbow and leaves his lair with a growl, speeding towards Vlad’s ghost portal and blasting past the startled billionaire without so much as a word, making his way out into the dark forests of Wisconsin. 

-

In the morning, Danny looks out his bedroom window and sees a dead, gutted, eighteen point buck on the lawn. 

He screams like he hasn’t screamed in a very long time. 

3

It’s enough for a while. Skulker’s mind is at ease and he hunts less prestigious prey. 

There’s a herd of ghost mammoths which have manifested in Canada and are making their way across the Yukon so he takes a few days to track them. He learns their habits, admires their strength, and takes his time before he chooses a target and closes in for the kill.

There are a pair of sub-adult males in the group, and something inside him feels a pang when he watches the two of them knock their glowing green tusks together playfully. Not quite full grown, but there is a strength to them, something that would have developed into an even more impressive beast if climate change and the advent of new predators had not killed them before their time. 

He ends up bringing down a bull male - six and a half tons of gently-glowing ecto-flesh with a fine purple-gray pelt - and spends a day simply dismantling the corpse into phantasmic meat, ghostly fur, and other usable materials. 

He would like to say he doesn’t think of the ghost child once, but that would be untrue. 

He thinks of the ghost child _constantly._

Each section of fur is a reminder that those skinny limbs surely don’t retain heat well, each slab of meat a possible means of bulking up a too-lean frame. 

He tries to remember if there was a point in his own childhood when he had been so insubstantial, but it’s been such a very long time. 

And he hates himself for wondering.

At one point he misses the cut he was making along a rib bone and slams his knife into the base of his metal thumb. The blade doesn’t cut so much as it sends a painful shock wave down his arm and he curses, dropping the knife and bringing the thumb to his mouth out of habit. 

He sits there on the tundra, in front of half-butchered giant, sucking on this bloodless thumb and staring out at a distant tree-line for what feels like a long time. 

In the end he cuts a large rectangular piece from the back of the pelt and half-heartedly tosses it through the ghost boy’s window while he’s at school. 

-

Danny gags when he walks into his room and is confronted with an overwhelming scent of ectoplasm and wet fur. He nearly faints when he actually realizes _what_ is lying in a haphazard pile on his floor. 

When he passes the ghost pelt on to his parents, they are, of course, ecstatic. 

4

‘He’s too _young_.’ The thought assaults Skulker a month later when he’s trading blows with the small halfa as act one of a scheme that Vlad has concocted involving an old Norwegian immigrant cemetery and a series of tornados. 

Danny has bags under his eyes and is in need of a haircut. Its finals week of the boy’s senior year of high school - and Skulker for the un-life of him can’t remember how he _remembers_ this - and the young man is clearly exhausted, although he still fights like a savage. 

They exchange a few quips, a few ecto blasts, and Skulker buys Plasmius enough time to raise a few Lief-Erikkson-looking ghosts, then he drops out of the fight. Fortunately the halfas are more than content to snipe at each other and Skulker is glad for once that his talents are outmatched and rendered unnecessary.

He flies back to the ghost zone with the sound of thunder and energy blasts at his heels and tries to fight down the feeling of anxiousness which is knotted tight in his metal chest. 

When he reaches his lodge he lowers himself to sit on a claw-footed couch before a roaring green fire, elbows on his knees and hands his chin as he stares at the viridian flames. Deep breaths, he thinks, deep, unnecessary breaths -

He seeks the steady silent space inside him which he must inhabit when lining up a particularly difficult shot...

Minutes pass and he can’t seem to find it, his mind continuing to race. With a grunt of displeasure he shuts his eyes and tries to _focus_ , but all he can think about is the circumference of the ghost boy’s waist compared to that of the average sub-adult human male in small-town America. He calculates the boy’s weight in pounds and kilograms and tiny, tiny fractions of a metric ton until he can’t handle it anymore and he drops his face into his hands with a groan. 

He wants this boy. He wants to _skin him_. He wants to put a perfectly placed bullet through his heart, to cut open his belly and pull out his organs, to replace his insides with sawdust and cotton. 

He wants to feed the stupid boy. He wants to eliminate the invasive species in Amityville that is threatening his habitat and endangering his survival. He wants to put a fence around the town and carefully control what predators and what prey have access to the resources there. 

He runs around and around and around these conflicting motivations until he runs himself right into the hazy, stuporous state that passes for sleep for a ghost. For the first time in longer than he can remember, he dreams. 

-

The next day he drifts at the edge of the halfa’s awareness, mentally cataloging the boy’s bruises and tallying them alongside previous known injuries in a gruesome ledger which gets redder and redder the more he works on it. 

By the time the boy is getting ready for bed Skulker has made up his mind. 

He returns to the ghost zone with a purpose, and clockwork help whomsoever stands in his way. 

5

Danny thinks he’s just imagining it at first. He thinks that maybe he’s just getting tougher, more used to the brutal pace his life has developed in the last four years. 

By week three though even he’s not naive enough to call it anything other than what it is. 

There are fewer ghosts attacking Amityville. Like, a lot fewer. 

It makes Danny nervous.

After four weeks he tracks the box ghost to the stockroom of a restaurant supply store and ties him up with twenty feet of Fenton Rope and threatens him relentlessly until the ghost gives up and spills all the dirt which has been circulating the Ghost Zone. 

-

Skulker’s checking the traps he set up along city limits for any stray spirits which may have maliciously wandered towards the siren call of Amityville’s active ghost portal. They were fuller a month ago when he started this newest project, three or four ghosts returning to his work room with him every night. Now he finds himself going whole days before uncovering a sprung trap. He’s had to break out his best skills as a hunter to obscure the nets, nooses, and cages from the ghosts which are left. 

He’d be lying if he said he hasn’t been enjoying the challenge.

He grins in triumph when he finds a monstrous but mindless ghoul trapped in the toothy maw of an ecto-bear trap. They’re bad skin, bad meat, bad _everything_ so he decides to just shoot it. It dissolves into ghostly blue vapor the moment his cannon blast makes contact. Skulker doesn’t begrudge himself the resultant swell of satisfaction which rises up in his metal breast. 

If he had known it would be so easy to thin the parasites in this town he would have tackled this problem _years_ ago. 

Resetting the trap takes a few minutes, but once the bait is hung he rises into the air and brings up the PDA (which has been disconnected from that human brat’s control, but somehow is _still_ strapped to his arm) to examine the GPS coordinates of his next trap. 

Later, when he thinks about it, he will realize he never even felt the presence of the halfa approaching him. He wasn’t even aware of the imminent attack until the boy’s fist connected with his ribs and sent him careening down to earth, straight into a stand of evergreens which shattered on impact. 

That means the boy’s getting better. 

Good.

“Ow.” He mutters, dully, picking his head up after laying there for a moment, dazed. He’s half buried under fragments of wood and needles and pine cones and there’s a cloud of dust and dirt still drifting in the air, settling slowly after such a rude awakening. 

When Danny descends he does so with his shoulders set back and his chin high and Skulker can’t help but be reminded of adolescent Orangoutangs posturing amongst fellow males to gain breeding rights with females - vying for dominance. 

Perhaps his systems are malfunctioning but the thought causes a goofy half smile to cross his face, head cocked to the side as he watches the boy-creature approach. 

“Ghost Child.” He offers, coughing once around the dust which settles into his throat. 

Danny looks suspicious. “What’s your game Skulker?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Danny’s fists glow at his sides as he clenches them and summons a sliver of his power. “Why are you warning other ghosts to stay away from me?” His words are low. A warning.

Skulker frowns, wondering what weakling had let it slip. 

“Do not concern yourself over it.” He declares after a moment, picking up a piece of tree trunk which is settled on his legs and tossing it away and over the tree tops so he can heft himself to his feet. “I can assure you my plans will result in no harm to you or your little friends so you may return home and rest.”

His comeback must have been unexpected because some of the fight goes out of the boy and he cocks his head in confusion. “Come on,” The teenager goads. “You really expect me to believe that you’ve just had a change of heart?”

Skulker gives him a long, dull stare but in the end only shrugs. “Yes.”

The look of absolute disbelief on Phantom’s face would be funny in another circumstance perhaps. The Ghost child stares back with an open mouth before he drops to his feet on top of the remains of a particularly large tree trunk, fisting his hair in his hands with a groan. 

“You are crazy.” He accuses. “You are actually crazy, I have no idea why you do the things that you do.”

The words feel surprisingly sharp and Skulker scowls. “I’m not insane, Phantom. I have simply reevaluated the situation and realized a new plan of action is needed.”

“What situation?” Danny presses.

Skulker tilts his head to the side and raises a single eyebrow. 

“Yours.”

Danny waves his hand in a circle now, an obnoxious gesture to goad him to progress further in his explanation but Skulker scowls and shakes his head. 

“Return home. You should eat. Rest.”

“I’ve had nothing but rest with you nixing every ghost in town!” Danny shouts but Skulker’s already flying into the air and careening back towards Plasmius’ ghost portal, frustrated to have interacted with the boy as much as he has. 

He scowls all the way to Wisconsin.

6

It’s a week before the two make contact again. Danny for his part tries his damnedest to just forget about Skulker’s nuttiness and let it go. 

Skulker goes to Siberia and tracks a herd of caribou. 

Despite his advice he knows the boy will do little enough to put meat on his own bones. As loathe as he is to interact too much with the specimen, he must do _something._

He comes through the ghost portal late at night when Phantom is doing some work alone in his parents’ lab, and he drops the offering in front of him. 

He’s a little surprised Danny doesn’t immediately pummel him the moment he steps through the portal in the manner that startled grizzly bears will strike immediately at anyone in their vicinity. 

The Ghost Child _does_ line a fully charged ecto shot up with his head so Skulker is delicate as he pulls out his hunting knife and settles his feet on the floor so he can begin to butcher the sizable carcass. 

For a long minute Danny just watches him, but when Skulker is pulling back the sides of the caribou’s abdomen so he can begin tugging the viscera out of the animal he hears Phantom choke and stumble back a couple steps before falling into a rolling chair. 

“Why are you doing that here?” The teenager asks faintly and Skulker glances up for a moment then shrugs. 

“You’re too thin.”

A strange sort of whimper escapes the ghost child and Skulker pauses, worried that the boy has sustained an injury he is not aware of, but Danny just has his face pressed into his hands, his shoulder’s slumped forward in disbelief. 

“Oh god please stop, you’re getting blood everywhere, I don’t want your deer.”

“Caribou.” Skulker corrects absently and continues to butcher the animal. 

Danny is right, of course. Bright red blood is pooling both under the animal and under the growing pile of offal that he’s collecting next to it. It does not bother him. It will be an easy enough thing to clean when he has finished. The lab floor is washable. 

“Stop butchering a caribou in my house. Please.” Danny pleads again but Skulker keeps going.

“No.” he snaps back, pausing in his work to point at Danny with his knife. “You need to eat better. If you will not take care of yourself, I am forced to provide for you.“

Danny’s staring at him in blank incredulity. “You have zero obligation to feed me, I can assure you, I feed myself just fine.”

“You are in the lower 10th percentile for height and weight for an adolescent male of your ethnic background and social status.”

“I’ll grow!”

“Yes, you will.” Skulker agrees, and he’s skinning the caribou now, his knife slicing clean and easy through the layers of dermis, freeing the pelt from muscle and tendon and bone. 

It’s a pity the ghost child does not know how to prepare hides. Skulker would do it for him, but he knows how his last gifted pelt was treated. 

The hunter doesn’t look up as he works his way from the belly to the limbs, his knife cutting a neat oval around each leg as he passes it by, the skin slopping limply against the ground on either side of the carcass. Over the sounds of his work Skulker hears the boy get to his feet and approach him cautiously. 

“Oh wow, that’s really disgusting.” Danny chokes out when he’s drawn up next to him. “You really, really don’t have to do this here. If you’re trying to intimidate me don’t worry, I’m officially intimidated.”

 _”No.”_ Skulker snarls, stabbing his knife into the ground next to him, the blade breaking right through the tile with a loud crack. He picks up his flaming head and narrows his eyes at Danny. “This is _for_ you. You can eat it. Or are you so stupid that you don’t know that _animals_ are where _meat_ comes from?”

“Meat comes from the grocery store.” Danny shoots back without missing a beat, apparently not nearly as cowed as he claims. “Not from crazy ghosts butchering fuzzy woodland creatures in my basement!”

Scowling, Skulker yanks the knife back out of the floor and shifts the carcass one handed, the whole thing scraping wetly across the floor until he has access to the lower back and hind legs. Above him Danny’s body twitches and he makes a gagging sound. 

Ignoring him, the hunter makes quick work of the dense muscle in the haunches and rump, taking great slabs of fat and muscle and piling them efficiently next to Danny’s sneakered feet. 

Some awe or horror keeps the teenager silent as Skulker works for several minutes divvying up the back end of his kill. 

When he’s finished he hoists the rest of the half butchered caribou over his shoulder, disregarding the blood slopping down his armor as he looks to beat a hasty retreat. 

This was not his best idea, he’s decided. He should leave quickly. 

“See that you eat that.” He grunts as he turns towards the portal, putting his back to a gaping teenager standing next to a pile of fresh meat and a lumpy mound of viscera. 

“NO! No, no, no you are not leaving this here!” Danny shouts, his paralysis breaking as he stumbles forward a half step, his shoes skidding just a little in the blood. “Oh, my god, how am I supposed to clean this up?”

The panic in his voice has Skulker turning back to him with a frown. He eyes the mess he’s made critically for a moment, then with a grunt pulls out his hand cannon and, without warning, fires an ectoblast at the offal he’s left behind. Phantom yelps and flinches away dramatically from the flash and the bang, ending up standing on one leg, his limbs pulled up around him as if to shelter himself from the blast. 

The smoke clears around a charred hole in the floor, but no more organs. 

Skulker nods once at his handiwork and turns back to the portal. He feels satisfied. 

The wordless gargle of impotent rage from behind him almost has him turn around again, but as he steps through the portal the winds of the otherworld swirl around him and whisk him back into the ether. 

It takes Danny an hour and a half to scrub the floor down, and twenty minutes to find enough room in the freezer for all the caribou meat he probably won’t be able to explain to his parents. 

All the while he’s trying to figure out if he’s more frustrated at Skulker than he’s ever been before, or more spooked by him. By the time he drags himself to bed at four in the morning, he thinks it’s probably both. 

7

“I’m telling you guys, Skulker has _Lost It._ ”

“Did he ever really have ‘it’?” Sam asks, complete with air-quotes and Danny levels a baleful glance her way.

Tucker snorts into his milkshake and bobs his head. “I don’t have a link up to the PDA anymore so I can’t tell you what’s on his agenda right now. Sorry man.”

“Oh I’m pretty sure I know his ‘agenda.’ Death by confusion. Here lies Danny Phantom, killed by brain implosion.”

“Not how I expected you to go.” Sam offers helpfully, picking at the french fries in the middle of their table. 

Nasty burger closes in an hour but the place is as busy as ever and the three teens are tucked into a corner booth, half-assedly working their way through a summer assignment they have for their upcoming first year college course and focusing just as half-assedly on Danny’s ghost problems. 

“So what’s he doing, exactly?” She picks her head up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear with the hand that’s not holding the fry. “Does it have something to do with when he carted you off to his evil lair a while back?”

Danny makes a face and takes a swig of his pop. “Yeah, thanks for the rescue, by the way. Real helpful.” 

“We were on our way!” Tucker protests around his straw. “You’re just too good, dude.”

“Off topic.” Sam jabs a fry. “So, related incidents?”

“I don’t really know.” Danny’s words come out as a sigh. “I mean, that did kind of seem to be the start of it, but, I just don’t understand _why_. We fought, he got a lucky hit, I woke up in a cage, tested out my new Max Blast to great success, and then I flew away. That’s it. That’s the story.”

“And now he’s...” Sam twirls the fry in front of Danny’s face until he snatches it away and pops it in his mouth. 

“He’s just being weird.” Danny grumbles. “Really weird. He’s talking about how, uh, how skinny I am? He’s brought me some, uh, some meat. That he caught. And I think he left a deer on my lawn. And some sort of animal skin in my room? Seriously, the whole house is starting to smell like carrion. I’m _still_ scrubbing blood out of the grout in my basement.”

“Blood?” Tucker picks his head up, alarmed.

“Deer blood. Caribou blood, I don’t know, he butchered the damn thing _in my basement_!”

Sam looks green, dropping the fry she’d just picked up back in the basket. “Okay, officially not hungry anymore.”

“Why?” Tucker asks faintly and Danny flails.

“That’s what I want to know!”

“But he hasn’t tried to shoot you again? Or cart you back off to ye olde chalet of doom?”

“No.” Danny says, miserably, dumping himself forward to lay face first on the table. “He’s just taking out every other ghost in town.”

Tucker sucks down the last of his shake noisily before humming curiously. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Danny grunts to the table. “I found him a week ago, he’s been trapping all the low level baddies for a while. That’s why it’s been so quiet.”

“Huh.” 

“Yeah.”

“Hmm.” Sam hums.

Danny rolls his eyes up towards her. “What?” 

“Hmm. Just hmm.”

“It’s never just ‘Hmm.’” Tucker says, eying his girlfriend nervously.

“‘Hmm’ or not, I can’t do this anymore. I’m starting to loose sleep, I’m just lying in bed waiting to see if he’ll show up and do something crazy tonight.”

There are only a few fries left in their communal basket and Sam swipes them all with one fist, jabbing them into what’s left in the ketchup cup. Apparently the caribou story hasn’t curbed her appetite permanently. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” She says before shoving the fries in her mouth. Then she’s pulling out her laptop to look over their homework again and Danny is officially unable to get anything else out of her.

8

It’s properly August before Danny sees his - Enemy? Nanny? Ally? - again. He’s lying on his back in his bedroom staring dully up at the ceiling. He’d patrolled a bit earlier and as usual found nothing in the immediate area, so he’d stretched himself into the neighboring towns and dealt with a ghost vole infestation in some guy’s barn but that was it. 

With one hand he absently conjures a ball of ectoplasm then lets it dissipate into a faint glowing mist, watching the swirls flutter about the room. 

Skulker watches all this from outside the boy’s open bedroom window.

Soon the boy will be going to an institute of higher education. He is traveling with his two stalwart companions so he will have his pack with him at least, but the change in habits makes Skulker uneasy. He is torn between remaining a distant observer and choosing instead to collect his specimen again and place him somewhere safe. The school he will be attending will not be too much further away from where he is now, but it makes for a new set of environmental variables. 

He has scouted the area they will be migrating to of course, cleared much of the inhabiting ghost population, but there is so much that is beyond his control. 

It is unpleasantly complex, having to choose what to rein in and what to allow to grow fallow around his quarry. It’s so much easier to just shoot and preserve the trophy as opposed to allowing the species to thrive in situ. 

The boy shifts on his bed and through the window Skulker’s eyes follow the boy’s movements as he scoots to the edge the mattress and stands with a stretch. 

Is that some more muscle on his lean frame? Has he been eating, has he been growing?

Phantom crosses the room, scratching at the skin that’s exposed by the hem of his t-shirt riding up over his hipbone. He picks his phone up off his desk - one of those new fangled models which have games and music and can even access the internet - and a six pack of silver cans. 

It’s the cans which have skulker pursing his lips in distaste. This is a new development.

Danny closes the door to his room while juggling his burdens, then saunters back over to his bed where he flops down with a sigh that Skulker can see but not hear. 

He pops open one of the cans and starts to play with his phone and Skulker’s fingers twitch. 

Slowly the boy sips and draws his thumb over the screen of his phone. He drinks and he scrolls. He sips. He scrolls. 

With each little swallow something itches in skulker and he wants to eradicate the can in Danny’s hand. 

Perhaps when the boy goes down to dinner with his family Skulker can sneak in and remove the offending liquid, take it up in the air, practice some target shooting. 

Oblivious, Danny keeps drinking and Skulker scowls. 

He shouldn’t be putting such rot into his body. Sharks eat plastic garbage which drifts past them in the ocean because they are stupid, but the ghost boy should at least be intelligent enough to draw the line at this-

As he watches Danny finishes his can and crushes the slim thing in his fist and tosses it to the floor. 

Then he wrestles another one free from it’s plastic packaging. 

Before his fingers can pop open the top a precision beam of a laser cuts into his room through the open window and the can in his hand explodes into a cloud of blue vapor. 

Danny yelps and twists over onto his side to stare out the window, his ghost senses all of a sudden are pinging like crazy and he watches a shivering outline of an invisible _thing_ wedging itself through the window. 

“Do not drink trash!” A familiar voice snarls and Danny’s heart skips a beat. 

“Skulker?!” 

Skulker materializes with a humph, straightening himself as he finally gets his whole, large body phased into the boy’s room. 

The ghost child is opening and closing his mouth like a fish, staring with wide eyes at Skulker and the hunter’s flames flicker between green and blue in an embarrassment he quickly squashes. 

Consuming caffeine in excess stunts growth in adolescents. If the young man has taken to imbibing of so called ‘energy drinks’ he must nip this particular behavior in the bud. If Phantom will not take care of himself, Skulker must intervene.

Without saying anything else he snatches up what’s left of the boy’s beverages and turns to scrape himself out of the bedroom window, chipping off only some of the window frame in the process.

“Where are you going? Those are mine!” Danny finally yells after him but Skulker doesn’t turn from his skyward trajectory, abandoning Danny to the inquisitive knocks at his bedroom door and the raised eyebrows of his neighbors who just see the Fenton kid shaking his fist at the clouds.

9

“I think I’ve figured it out.” Tucker says as he slides into the booth next to Sam. Once again they’re at Nasty Burger, drinking in their last couple weeks of freedom before college swallows them up. 

“Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.” Danny blubbers, his hands wrapped like a vice around his drink. Sam sips at her shake and flicks through screens on her phone, immune to Danny’s distress. 

Tucker waves off his gratitude and sets down a stack of printouts on the formica table in front of him. “So he’s a hunter, right?”

“Obviously.” Danny counters unhelpfully but Tucker isn’t deterred. The young man flips through sheets of paper before pulling one out to slide over to Danny. 

At the top of the sheet the words ‘The Conserving Huntsman, the Hunting Conservationist: a Practice’ Is written in 48 pt bold Helvetica and Danny frowns at it before glancing up at his friend for further explanation. 

Tucker just shrugs. “Read it.”

Danny turns his eyes back down with a deeper frown and begins skimming the text. It appears to be some blow hard’s personal manifesto, full of grandiose statements and broad conjecture. The tone reminds him of a certain mechanical someone and he almost smiles a few time when he imagines Skulker’s voice reading off some of the lines. 

Still, the content is confusing. Its a meshing of two themes which Danny wouldn’t normally think to put together. “Conservation?” He asks slowly. “Like animal’s rights?” 

“Nah man,” Tucker shakes his head, holding up another page and pointing at a frankly gruesome illustration of what happens when you shoot a deer in various places. “These guys still want to shoot the animals, they just don’t want to run out of animals to shoot, get it? So they have to leave the best of the species alive to just, exist, and to uh, you know, make new animals or something.”

For a moment Danny is quiet as he processes this, then he recoils and snaps “HE WANTS ME TO BREED?”

At this point Sam puts down her phone and levels Danny with a pointed look. The young man’s face goes red and he can tell even out of the corner of his eye that he pulled a few stares with that outburst. 

“Oh come on Danny, don’t be stupid.” She rolls her eyes. “Who would he have you ‘breed’ with? Vlad?” The assembled friends all make a face of disgust, Danny going so far as to gag and push his drink aside, feeling slightly nauseated. 

“He’s just decided you’re better alive than dead.” Sam continues after a beat. “I’ve got big game hunters in my family, ones like Skulker who go around the world to shoot defenseless things on all seven continents, but even they have a code of conduct. 

“Simply put: they just like killing things too much to let them die out.’”

Tuck nods enthusiastically next to her, pulling out another page which has a bunch of charts and graphs on it with axial labels like ‘population density’ and ‘territorial conflicts between sub adult males in coastal populations.’ “He’s trying to protect your ‘species’ so to speak, that’s why he’s cutting down other ‘predators’ that infringe on your ‘territory.’ It’s why he’s trying to control what you eat and don’t eat.”

“He likes you.” Sam summarizes and Danny has a brief but intense urge to level a ghostly wail in her direction. Instead he just shakes his head. 

“Nope. Nope. Nope. That’s nuts. This is Skulker, guys, he’s just a shoot em and skin em kind of guy.”

Sam shrugs and takes a long pull on her shake before replying. “Maybe not. At first he might have been caught up with the thrill of the hunt but then he actually managed to catch you, remember? Maybe that event just sort of shifted him a different direction and he decided you were better off, I dunno, ‘free range.’”

“I’m not a chicken.” Danny squawks, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t need his permission to move freely about the barnyard.”

Tucker waves his own hands placatingly. “Look Skulker’s always been obsessive. Before he was obsessed with killing you. Now he’s obsessed with keeping you alive. As far as preferences go I think we should be glad he’s moved on to option B.”

“But I don’t want him to do this!” Danny hisses. “What gives him the right to act like some spooky forest ranger?”

“If you’re so pissed about it, go... talk to him?” Tucker cringes at the thought but labors on. “I mean, I don’t now why you’d prefer him leveling his cannons at you every other week but if that’s how you want to live your life...”

Sam rolls her eyes and sets her shake down with a thump, leveling one finger at her best friend accusingly. “You gotta woman up Danny and deal with this because we’ve got orientation in a couple weeks and I for one don’t want Skulker following us around the cafeteria because he’s got a bee in his bonnet about what kind of cereal you’re supposed to have for breakfast.”

That mental image has Danny blanching, his puny freshman form trying to fit in and failing due to the seven plus feet of flame haired ghost cyborg hovering over his shoulder as his own personal dietician. “Fine,” he groans, giving up. “I’ll go find him tomorrow.”

“Good.” Sam places her phone onto the table top with a sharp click. “Now I need you two to brainstorm with me about this roommate they’ve set me up with. You guys lucked out having each other, but they’ve put me with this girl from Minnesota - Kaitlyn - and I honestly think she eats paste-’

10

 _‘He’s too_ thin. _’_ Is Skulker’s first thought when he opens his door to find Phantom standing there, arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. 

The next thought through his head is simply ‘ _NO-_ ’ but it’s already too late.

The halfa pushes his way past Skulker and into his house and the hunter is left standing dumbly for a moment before he shuts the door and turns to follow the boy into his domain. 

‘ _No. Go away._ ’ He thinks at the halfa’s back as he watches the boy float casually around his den. 

Skulker scowls. This is all wrong.

“We need to talk.” Phantom drawls as he drifts up to look Skulker’s taxidermied ghost grizzly right in its snarling face. 

Skulker scowls harder because he doesn’t want to talk. 

The ghost child _should_ go back to his home and-

“I know what you’re doing.” Danny adds after a moment of Skulker’s churning silence. The young man drops to his feet and turns the full strength of his glare on the hunter. “And I want you to stop.”

Skulker scrapes out a denial from between clenched teeth. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The boy just rolls his eyes.

“Look,” He offers, holding his hands up in the air. “I’m glad you’re down for us to not be enemies anymore, really I am, but this whole... spectral safari zone thing you’ve got going on needs to stop. It’s weird. I’m not an animal, and I don’t want you trying to control my life. I don’t need an advocate. I can take care of myself.”

Skulker thinks back to some of the most difficult hunts of his life (and his death). This is where things got messy: when the quarry tires of the pursuit and confronts the huntsman. 

The fighting will be fierce, but he must not retreat. 

Skulker bares his teeth.

“Can you?” He barks. Danny opens his mouth to reply but Skulker presses on, the flames of his hair lengthening and burning brighter in his agitation. “You’re too thin, you take on greater enemies than you have the strength to defeat, you wander into places you’re not familiar with and confront predators you’re not prepared to evade, you surround yourself with a pack which cannot provide you the physical support that you need-”

“I’ve defeated you, haven’t I?” Danny snaps back. “And Plasmius, and Walker and most of the big baddies in the ghost zone. You’ve been there, you’ve seen it first hand, I can handle myself!”

“Can you? Because I remember just how easy it was able to catch you-”

“One time!” The ghost boy slashes a hand through the air, exasperated. “One time: you got a lucky hit and I got caught. I was out of here in an hour, tops. You can’t hold that against me-”

Something terrible bubbles up in Skulker and he hates it, hates it so much. Because it’s not bloodlust or rage or pride or hunger or any of the things which are a rush to experience. It’s something softer and squishier and he hates that he is _worried about this kid._

“It was too easy!” He shouts, the strange otherworldly particles of the atmosphere in the ghost zone vibrating with the ferocity of his tone. “I should have been elated to have you, I should have skinned you immediately and taken your pelt for my bed, but I didn’t! I didn’t want to! 

“I looked at you and I realized that you are _too thin!_ You are too weak! And you will get yourself killed!”

At some point Danny begins to develop a flush. His cheeks take on a pale, sickly sort of green tint: ire and embarrassment coursing through him. He matches Skulker’s shout with one of his own, just a decibel shy of a proper wail.

“Sorry I’m not the carnival prize you hoped I’d be! And why the hell do you care about me getting killed!? You _just said_ you wanted me dead!”

If Skulker’s words made the air shiver, Phantom’s words cause everything to go utterly still. Skulker feels like he is holding his breath, feels like he is sweating, like he has goosebumps crawling up and down skin which turned to dust decades ago. 

This whole ordeal: it’s been like questing for weeks and weeks deep in the jungle for one shot at a bird of paradise, only to realize once you have it your hands that the glitter of it, the shimmer, the shine, the song and the dance of it will mean nothing if it only sits in silent staged stillness, gathering dust. No amount of posing will capture it’s essence, no amount of embalming will trap its spirit. 

Different prey are made for different kinds of pursuit. Skulker had forgotten that there are other paths to victory besides a hunt to the death. 

“Not anymore.” He groans, deflating like he’s been punctured. He drags himself over to one of his stiff, old fashioned armchairs and drops into it heavily. “Not like this. You need to just _stay alive-_ ”

“And I will,” Danny sniffs. “I don’t need your help for that. I’d rather you just go back to being who you were, and I’ll be who I am, and we’ll all go back to the way things were.” Danny has his nose so far up in the air Skulker can see up his nostrils and the posture reminds him of that damned gorilla which had been the impetus for their first interaction all those years ago.

He remembers that precocious, snarky, insolent brat who had defeated him, the greatest hunter in history, so _easily_.

He drops his head back against the headrest and scowls. “That’s too bad, because I _want_ to help you.”

His choice of words seems to take some of the starch out of the boy and he drifts down to hover a few inches closer to the floor.“ _Help me?_ Come on, don’t you have better things to do with your time?” His tone comes out pleading and it plucks at something in Skulker which is absolutely disgusting. He will not be moved by _begging_.

The Hunter crosses his arms over his chest in a protective manner, scowl deepening. “You’re unique. Rare.”

Danny’s feet find the floor before his own limbs give up the fight to keep him standing and he flops into a chair of his own, right across from Skulker. “So you’ve said before.” 

Phantom’s words are dripping with disdain and Skulker grits his teeth at the deliberately obtuse man in front of him.

This would be a good time to toss him out. Or better yet, he should subdue him, render him unconscious, carry him back to his home, settle him in safe amongst his family, and call it a night. He should put him back where he belongs and end this argument before it goes any further.

“You’re one of a kind.” He finds himself trying again instead, needing to explain it, to have the boy _understand_ wins out over reason. “Maybe I’ll kill you and stuff you one day, but not now. Now I wish to protect you. I want you to stay alive.”

“Gee, thanks-”

Skulker can’t help himself, he picks his head up and launches to his feet. He reaches out and yanks Danny up - mentally rolling his eyes at the way the boy has let his guard down so quickly. They boy yelps and pulls his wrist free but just as suddenly Skulker is reaching down and he closes his hands around the young man’s waist. He can almost, almost touch his finger tips together along Danny’s spine. 

“You’re precious.” Skulker admits out loud, ashamed but resigned to the fact that he can no longer deny it. 

Something about seeing this vivid, tenacious thing all twisted and beaten on the floor of a cage had frankly fucked him up. He gets it now. He’d been too obsessive, too single minded. He’d let the idea of having the skin of a halfa compel his actions right up until the moment that victory was in his grasp. Then something more real, more raw, more alive had made itself known. 

This creature is _exquisite_. He wants it to live. He doesn’t just want a halfa’s skin anymore. 

He wants the whole halfa.

“Uh-” Danny hesitates, the green blush of his blazing to life on his cheeks.

Some new feeling that’s been growing deep inside Skulker for months now surges up and starts to _twist._

“You should leave.” He rumbles out. “Now.”

11

Skulker tells him to leave and you know what, yeah, that sounds like a brilliant idea because Danny has just realized that he has _totally lost control of the situation._

Except that no one has ever accused Daniel Fenton of being brilliant. Like right now, right now where reason says he should be knocking Skulker back with a blast to the gonads and then barreling his way out the door-

Instead he’s blushing and his mouth is hanging open because his brain is rebooting and he finds himself thinking about how he’s never been this close to Skulker before without Imminent Pain being on the menu.

He closes his mouth but it’s so dry he has to swallow a few times and usually most of his bodily functions cease to matter in the ghost zone so _why does he have a dry mouth._

Then his lips part again to speak, to say something to lighten the mood, to kill the moment, but Skulker’s hands are these huge, unyielding things and they’re so damn _warm_ compared to the ghost zone chill.

 _‘Help.’_ Danny thinks, feeling dumb and out of his depth and _why is he still standing here?_

Sam’s words from yesterday go off in his head like a claxon. _”He likes you.”_ She says, memory blaring away and damn it. He hadn’t thought she’d meant like _this._

“Precious?” Is what he manages to choke out, needing some clarification. “You got the wrong halfa. I’m just Danny Phantom, my, uh, my base value is pretty low-”

“Any collector in the world would risk life and limb to count you amongst their prizes.” Skulker clarifies, far too serious for comfort and for the first time Danny pulls back a bit, testing the strength of those hands. 

“Yup, not so charmed by the idea of getting stuffed and mounted, thanks.”

“I already told you I don’t want to kill you!” Skulker growls. 

“Then why-”

“I have never met any creature like you, ghost boy” He snaps. “You are a better opponent than I ever thought you could be. 

“When the time came to end it and claim my victory, I realized the prospect of holding your lifeless pelt did not satisfy me.”

Danny winces at the mental image. “And I’m super happy about that, truly-”

Skulker flexes his fingers and Danny makes an unflattering face, worried the ghost will keep on squeezing until something cracks but he stops at just enough for Danny to feel breathless and wow, yeah. 

He pants despite the absence of real air in the ghost zone and can’t help squirming a little in Skulker’s grip. 

“Wow, okay.” Danny says faintly. Head a bit fuzzy. Out of all the ways he expected this conversation to go this was pretty far down on this list. With as deep a breath as he can manage, he places his own smaller hands on top of Skulker’s. His thin fingers don’t try to pry him off, he’s just getting a feel for the hot metal from the other side.

“-uh, wow. Huh. I guess I could be into this.”

Skulker blinks, eyes flickering between what Danny has done with his hands and the mortifying way Danny’s cheeks are glowing green. His own metal teeth part slightly in surprise.

“Phantom, you should leave. I don’t think you understand-”

“Call me Danny.” Danny says, a tiny smirk touching his lips as his fingers thread between Skulkers.

12

This is an unexpected turn of events. 

Skulker is nothing if not a good planner. One needs to be organized and thorough to be a top hunter. The best prey are callous and clever and to show any chink in your own armor is to allow them to slip from your grasp. 

Over the course of the last few months he has planned so much for the ghost child: how to best keep him healthy, how to keep him strong, how to keep him safe, how to see him grow. He has contemplated the spread of the halfa’s years with the fine eye of an artist, planned for where he may push and nudge and cut and curb to see this creature reach peak form. 

But in every timeline and bulleted list he has included himself as only an outsider. He is to be a shadowy supervisor to a free and wild thing.

The boy isn’t meant to be here. 

But the shape of... Danny. The shape of Danny under his hands is incredible. He’s never held the boy gently before, never without a butcher’s intent. All those strange, wriggling feelings he’s had since he’d bested the boy are _writhing_ inside of him and this isn’t right, he shouldn’t-

“I want you.” Skulker growls. “I’m trying to let you go free but I _want you_.”

The young man’s smirk deepens and Skulker’s hair flames a bit brighter. 

“If I had known all those canon blasts were just you pulling on my pigtails I wouldn’t have been punching you quite so hard.”

“I like your punches!” Skulker replies hastily, eyes widening. “You’ve become very strong! I’ve been keeping notes, it’s incredible!”

Danny blinks and his smirk breaks down into a gasped out a laugh “Oh my god, you’re a nerd.”

Skulker’s earnestness turns to a scowl. “A good hunter is a smart hunter and I am a very, very good hunter.” He corrects dourly.

“You did catch me.” Danny’s laughter calms as he agrees, those pale eyes glancing upwards look even bigger then they usually do. Skulker’s affront fades away. 

He is so turned on right now. 

“I did.” He growls. “And now I’ve caught you again.” He leans in close to Danny’s ear, the tightness of his grip becoming infinitesimally _more_ as he whispers “Are you planning to escape me this time?”

Skulker swears he can almost hear the pull of Danny’s lips into a smile. “Not tonight.” The boy whispers back. 

Skulker’s distemper evaporates and that signature smirk of his crawls over his metal lips once again. 

“Good.”

13

Danny hadn’t been in the right head space the last time he’d been here to really investigate Skulker’s home. Something about waking bloody and alone in what was a proper torture chamber had given him all the motivation he’d needed to just up and skedaddle. 

Now he drifts next to Skulker as the ghost man leads him through the lodge, his mind racing and his body still tingling from the press of Skulker’s fingers over his waist. 

This is nuts, truly nuts, but Danny has always been led more by the heart than the head and right now his heart is thrumming with a sort of needy anticipation. 

Skulker’s massive mitt - still resting confidently on the low of his back - is doing some wild things to his gut. His nerves and his excitement twist themselves together and he’s barely registering the gruff, cursory commentary Skulker is keeping up about what they’re passing as they make their way deeper into his home. 

Eventually they pick a door and it opens automatically before them and Skulker pushes Danny ahead of him into the dark room. When the door shuts behind them for a moment everything is black, then torches and candles all ignite with a great flicker of ghostly green flame and Danny shivers. 

It’s a bedroom, dark paneling and animal heads on every wall. For fuck’s sake it even has a real four poster bed - canopy and all - positively dripping in plush, heavy furs. It’s Gothic and old school and he could laugh because it’s so freaking _Skulker_ , but...  
he’s sort of in to it. 

Wow, he’s really kind of in to this. 

“Daniel.” Skulker growls behind him and Danny’s heart pounds. 

“Skulker.” He answers, more breathless than cocky. Behind him Skulker chuckles and Danny has to wonder for a moment at the flip that has been switched in this ghost. He was all snarling and demanding when he first arrived, and now-

“It is a... nice surprise. You. To have you here.” The ghost grunts after a moment of silence, a rasp to his tone which sounds like it accompanies the beginnings of a blush. With Skulker’s chest to his back, its impossible for Danny to check and see if a metal body can even do that.

Slowly the hunter brings his hands up to wrap around Danny’s waist again, now coming from behind so his fingers meet in the space beneath Danny’s lower ribs, pressing into the teen’s pliant abdominal muscles and the young body in his hands shudders. 

“Sure this wasn’t your nefarious plot all along?” Danny quips, more breathless than ever, and Skulker squeezes just enough to feel dangerous. A little squeak sneaks past Danny’s lips, and now Danny is the one fighting against a blush.

“No.” Skulker murmurs, unhelpfully. 

Danny lifts his own hands to cover Skulker’s. He squeezes once before pulling at those enormous wrists, negotiating enough space for himself so he can twist in the hunter’s grasp, wiggling around to face his once-nemesis.

Their eyes lock, the pale of Danny’s own nearly swallowed by black. Skulker’s ghost fire irises blazing with a violent brightness. 

There’s a beat of silence again before Skulker’s smirk turns to a broader, toothier thing. “You are stunning.”

Danny feels himself flush harder at that, and he knows his cheeks are pigmented a lurid shade of green. “You’re obsessive. It makes you hallucinate.” He clarifies, but Skulker’s smile looses none of its edge.

“Let me have you.” The hunter demands, the ghost green of his eyes flickering dangerously. “I want you. If not mounted on my wall, then I would have you in my bed.”

“-Okay.” Danny manages to choke out, turned on to the point of feeling dizzy and so in over his head but fuck if this isn’t working for him. “No skinning me when we’re done.” He adds, just to be clear, and Skulker laughs hoarsely. 

“Not tonight.”

14

When Skulker makes a decision, he commits himself to it whole heartedly. Once, he had hunted the boy with abandon. Then he sought to preserve him. It had never been his intention to lure him here, to own him, to possess him in _this_ way, but now that they have agreed to this-

It makes sense, doesn’t it? The strongest seek the strongest, to form partnerships, to mate, to breed. He has always been the best: the greatest hunter in the world. If this young man has been his greatest enemy then why not something more?

The teen has lifted himself up with the use of his ghostly power and leveled his head with Skulker’s. 

He is still for a moment, contemplating. 

When he moves, at first its only to lick his lips in a deliberately slow way which has Skulker’s circuits firing a little hotter. The tip of his pretty pink tongue flicks wetly over his lower lip and Skulker’s eyes hone in on the movement. Then Danny is pressing his body in closer, bold, determined, and Skulker meets those soft warm lips with the solid press of his own. 

He has had few bedmates in the many years of his death. A couple anonymous encounters with little enough said between parties, then Ember, and she had made no effort to hide her dislike of his mouth. The firmness of other body parts was beyond critique, but he bruised her lips and made them swell when he lost himself to their kisses and she hadn’t liked that. 

The moan that slips from Danny’s throat and vibrates into Skulker’s plating tells him the beginnings of a different tale. 

Skulker opens his mouth, knowing to be cautious in how he moves it, knowing that there are sharp edges and crushing strength to be aware of, but he has a soft tongue, made of fleshier stuff than the rest of him and Danny lets out a startled hum as the appendage presses past his lips, accompanied by the slide of thin ectoplasm which serves as Skulker’s saliva. Danny gives into a louder moan, tilting his head to the side to give Skulker better access while the Cyborg brings his hands up to wrap around the teen’s body. One massive paw spreads itself over the back of Danny’s head to hold the boy’s skull at the proper angle while the other wraps around his hip to squeeze teasingly at the flesh there. Danny whimpers, his ghost powers aiding him as he curls up into the touch, no need to trust his weight to Skulker, all he has to do it enjoy being caught up in the hunter’s clutches. 

And he will enjoy it. Oh will he ever. Skulker will conquer this creature completely.

Danny makes a breathless little noise, tilting his head the other direction and Skulker shifts to cradle it more comfortably, the soft press of his white hair a tantalizing sensation at the tips of his fingers. He rubs gently at Danny’s scalp, luring the teen’s tongue into his mouth so he can have a turn sucking at it teasingly, savoring the hero’s flavor. 

Danny lets out a strangled sort of whimper, his legs tensing, thighs clenching and they’re pressed so close that skulker can feel those muscles as they shift and shiver at the sensation. The young man becomes little more than a pile of writhing, eager flesh in his arms, responding beautifully to Skulker’s impatient nips and pushy hands. When Danny pulls back, panting out of habit, his eyes are glassy and his lips are wet and plush, faintly glowing green with the remnants of Skulker’s saliva. 

For a moment they just stare at each other - dazed - with Skulker’s fingers still curling to pet at Danny’s skull while the ghost boy’s own hands have fisted themselves desperately into Skulker’s tank top. 

A slow blink gently edges them back into action, the sweep of Danny’s white lashes over his cheeks a blissfully beautiful vision. 

“Wow.” Is Danny’s murmured summation. 

Skulker’s grin explodes back onto his face in full glory, his terrifying teeth bared in pride and hunger and the pit of Danny’s stomach drops out in a way that makes him feel weak, makes him want to curl into Skulker’s arms and just _live there_. 

The heat inside of the hunter is building, body working itself up, the friction of his gears rising. Skulker knows his body is bleeding warmth, the metal of his cheeks like a radiator, and he presses his face against Danny’s, sharing a heat which makes the teenager gasp and moan, shuddering in Skulker’s hold. 

“Just the start, boy.”

“Danny.” Danny grunts and Skulker’s tongue slips out to trace the shell of Danny’s ear. 

“Daniel.”

“Danny.” Danny gasps again, seeming undecided between tipping his head into Skulker’s ministrations or drawing away from the slick, questing appendage. 

Skulker pulls his mouth back, but just barely. 

“Danny.” He growls, and without further warning he is using his powers to propel them both through the air towards the bed, flying them both into the mattress without his hands ever having to leave Danny’s body, the boy arching his back with a yelp of surprise when they collide with the soft furs and blankets on Skulker’s bed. 

The rumpled frown Danny tries to give Skulker is heartily ignored, Skulker’s mouth returning to Danny’s with even greater fervor. The teenager let’s the snarky comment on his lips dissolve away, melting under the heated ministrations of Skulker’s surprisingly flexible tongue. 

The hunter sets his sights on undressing his quarry. He wants to have his hands all over that skin which he has promised not to harm. He wants the boy’s flesh bared, all for him, all for his appraising eye. He wants to know each scar, each blemish which touches his skin, he wants to know where his color shifts from pale to rosy, where his bones stretch out his flesh, where muscle has sculpted him. 

He shoves a hand under Danny’s body, encouraging the boy to bow his back so he can get at the zipper which keeps his suit on.

Danny’s mouth has separated from his, trailing down to work his dull human teeth and little wet tongue at the flexible plating which covers Skulker’s neck. While the ghost wouldn’t ordinarily think of that being a particularly sensitive or vulnerable part of his mechanical anatomy, Danny is somehow sending sparks singing down Skulker’s wires in a way he’s never experienced before. His hands twitch as a pulse of pleasure sizzles through him and the little zipper toggle in his fingertips is in danger of being crushed.

With a growl he wrenches his head back, Danny giving a petulant whine as his treat is taken away. His swollen bottom lip sticks out in a pout, his hands still fisted in Skulker’s clothing, twisting the cloth in his need.

Skulker shudders afresh. Something very primal in him wants to just wrap himself around this creature and squeeze it tight, protect it and warm it and shelter it and comfort it with his body. He wants to feed it, to pleasure it, to watch it quiver and buck and shudder in his hands.

The zipper gives up the fight and capitulates to Skulker’s demands, the hunter letting loose a laugh of triumph as he yanks it down harshly, the silver teeth separating with a shriek.

“Skulker-” Danny wheedles while tacitly complying with Skulker’s efforts to maneuver his arms free from the suit. 

Skulker doesn’t respond. He needs this boy undressed _now_. That the object of his desire has to come trapped in a _utility suit_ of all things- 

“ _Skulker_ -” The teen’s voice is a drawn out pout.

As soon as Skulker let’s go of the youth’s denuded arms and turns his attention to pushing the suit down Danny’s waist the ghost boy huffs and makes his move. 

Danny sits up rapidly, forcing Skulker to lean back to avoid their skulls colliding. The hunter’s grabbing hands have to separate from their task, his victory snatched from his fingers. Danny’s suit is stuck bunched around his waist, only his faintly green-tinged chest - heaving with eager pants and thrumming with nervous excitement - is revealed for Skulker’s inspection.

Skulker refrains from growling, but only just. His hands clench and open agitatedly as he glares at his quarry. “What?”

Danny is unfazed by Skulker’s waspish tone, his eyes focused only on the hem of Skulker’s muscle tank, his fingers plucking at it anxiously, untucking it from his belt, endeavoring to get underneath. “I wanna see you.” 

Skulker’s lusty fires are immediately banked, his energy reigned in as he holds still, just watching the ghost boy begin to peel up the stretchy black fabric. “There’s just more metal-” he starts to rasp out.

Danny shakes his head, freeing the tank and shoving it roughly up to Skulker’s arm pits. “Don’t care. Wanna see you.” A second is spared to cast a glance up to Skulker’s face - those pale eyes ridiculously huge and _pleading_ \- then Danny is leaning in, his tongue stretched out to trace over the seam of two plates on Skulker’s chest. Danny’s eyelids slip closed as he moans at the firm, sculpted heat he encounters. 

Synthetic saliva pools heavy in Skulker’s mouth. He swallows. “Alright.”

He takes a deep inhale of cooling atmosphere before he brings his arms down so he can press his palms to the planes of Danny’s naked back. Underneath his fingers he finds the graceful slope of a shoulder blade; the segments of the young man’s spine bowing artfully as he presses his face to Skulker’s chest. One of Danny’s own pale hands presses against Skulker’s bared abdomen, grounding himself. 

Even though there’s excess heat already pouring off of Skulker, the hunter can still feel the warmth of the halfa’s touch and a startled moan escapes him, the surge of intense, possessive _want_ filling his chest and making it tight. 

“I thought you’d taste like a toaster. Like metal.” Danny mutters wetly, drawing away from his work, lifting a wrist to wipe at the spit which makes his lips shine obscenely. “But you taste more like, I dunno... fire?”

“Yeah?” Skulker rasps, uncharacteristically cautious. Danny grins up at him. 

“I like it.”

Skulker swallows again, and maybe his body is malfunctioning in the wake of all this arousal because his mouth is suddenly dry as a bone and he can barely scrape together a reply. “Good.”

Danny’s grin spreads a bit further, and he raises himself up on his knees, pushing at Skulker’s massive triceps to try and get the ghost to lift his arms from where they’re still resting on Danny’s back. Skulker complies without thinking, letting out a gruff grunt when Danny shoves his tank up over his head, fighting to get the bigger man free of the garment. 

It turns into a wrestling match to rid them of the rest of their clothes, growls and huffs of laughter as fingers catch and fabric twists and not nearly soon enough everything has been tossed to the floor, a furious flush rushing in to cover Danny in the wake of his disappearing suit. 

Skulker’s gaze slips down, down, down Danny’s kneeling form. Past blushing, peaked nipples and a sweetly dipping navel his eyes seek out what’s between Danny’s legs. A trail of fine, pale hair leads to a weeping erection, hard and desperate and just beginning to leak at the tip. Danny’s fingers have anchored themselves in the purple fur spread out under his knees and he fists at the material viciously. His chest dips and rises with massive steadying breaths, a shameless, private performance of this beautiful body and it’s _all for Skulker_. 

Unbeknownst to the hunter a furiously hungry look has taken over his features, his eyes _burning_ with an unholy fire as he reaches out his enormous, terrifying hands to cup the curve of Daniel’s hip bones. His palms are tantalizingly close to making contact with Danny’s length, but not quite there, not just yet. 

Now, with all their clothes gone, Skulker finally lets himself lose some of the rigid control he’s ben keeping over his body’s functions. He grits his teeth and hisses softly as he lets his lust take center stage and become visible. There’s a soft space at his crotch made of the same material as his tongue, and given permission the fleshy material now begins to extend with the clever help of flexing mechanics and pooling ectoplasm.

For a moment Danny looks confused at the abrupt pause the proceedings, but the catch in his breath betrays the moment he catches on. His eyes are round, his cheeks flushed, his body stiff under the clutch of Skulker’s hands at his hips as he watches that large mechanical cock fill out.

“Didn’t know I was into this.” Danny chokes out, mouth hanging open as the organ takes shape. It doesn’t take more than a few moments, but it feels like an obscene eternity where Danny’s heart pounds like it’s trying to break free of his ribcage. 

When Skulker’s cock has finished its eversion, the translucent, pearly material covering it pulses faintly with the green glow of ectoplasm.

“But you are?” Skulker asks, uncharacteristically soft. Most men don’t get to pick their dicks, but Skulker had had a say in the shape of this one so he takes this quite seriously. 

Danny nods his head emphatically. 

“Into this?” He clarifies with a gasp. “Oh, _yeah_. Definitely into it.”

Skulker’s features relax into a soft smirk. 

The hunter is kneeling in front of Danny, his massive thighs spread to bracket the Halfa’s boney knees, and at Danny’s breathless declaration he surges forward. He shift’s his weight to a wider stance so he is braced more firmly, better prepared to roll his hips down and push his hot cock forward against the eager curve of Danny’s own. Just like that they’re pressed together, hip to hip, Danny’s hard nipples rubbing against Skulker’s own smooth, heated chest. The ghost hunter rolls his hips in a sharp, firm rhythm against the younger, both groaning eagerly, Danny’s own noises coming out in sharp, desperate pants. The strength of the halfa’s spine fails and he slumps backwards, falling flat to the mattress. The hands he has wrapped around Skulker’s shoulders brings the big man down with him, his big cock still humping forward to meet the helpless, writhing twists of Danny’s hips.

Skulker shifts their legs, maneuvering himself in between the teen’s pale thighs, pushing and manipulating until the boy has himself spread wide and exposed for Skulker, his knees squeezing against Skulker’s ribs, testing the rigid body for any give.

There isn’t any.

A purr falls from Skulker’s lip, and he picks up the rhythm again. A dribble of ectoplasm from his cock and the blurts of precome from Danny’s make the movement between them wet and warm and Skulker dives in for another hungry kiss while one hand insinuates itself between them to seek that warmth and that wet and that push and press of their eager cocks. 

They fit nicely together as he wraps a fist around them both. 

The palms of his hands are covered in a plush, velvety polymer to keep grit and splinters from getting trapped in the small, delicate joints of his fingers. The polymer has a tendency to get slippery when it comes into contact with certain fluids. Skulker takes full advantage of this fact now.

Danny is leaking in earnest, panting, craning his neck so he can look down the length of his flushed body at the vision of Skulker’s powerful hand wrapped around them both, his palm hot and firm and holy shit _slick_ -

Hips snapping up of their own volition Danny cries out, another blurt of precome further smoothing their way and Skulker groans as he watches the teen’s face contort in pleasure. Ectoplasm leaks from the tip of his own cock and he rocks forward harder, harder, faster, faster-

“Ffffuck-” Danny gasps, humping wildly now, reaching up to grab on to Skulker’s head and neck, disregarding the danger of that flaming hair. 

Skulker is little better, panting thrusting hard, hard, harder against his partner. 

He’s spent months - _months_ \- following this kid around. Tailing him, watching him, studying him, notes upon notes. He wants to know everything about him, to see everything, to have _everything_.

“Come on ghost boy-” He growls. “Do it, you’re already there. Come on. I want you to come. I want to see you do it, come all over yourself.”

“Danny-” Danny gasps, stubborn to the end, even with tears in his eyes, his hips twitching in a faltering rhythm because he’s just barely nineteen for mercy’s sake and he _is_ close, he’s ridiculously close.

“ _Danny_ ” Skulker _croons_ , drawing the name out like it’s something exotic and coveted and obscene and Danny’s done. 

With a strangled shout he comes, pulling hard on Skulker’s neck as he curls forward. His frantic thrusts into Skulker’s hand falling out of rhythm but the furious movement of Skulker’s own pistoning hips forcing him higher. The push of Skulker’s cock against his own makes him gasp, choke on high pitched keens as the thrusts milk spurt after spurt of come from him, coating Skulker’s hand and his own abdomen. 

With a snarl and a few more vicious shoves Skulker tightens his hand around the pair of them, producing a desperate twitch and a wail from Danny. 

Orgasm wrenches its way through Skulker’s systems with an intensity bordering on frightening. Synthetic muscles clench, plates grind loudly against one another, a hiss like steam being released comes from some mechanic in his back. 

Pleasure boils its way through Skulker’s unnatural veins and he feels like he’s burning up from the inside, wires sparking like mad, servos locking, gears grinding. It’s consuming, all encompassing, and every second of it is utterly perfect. He feels glorious. Strong. Triumphant.

He comes in massive, eager spurts, covering both of them, the splatter of hot ecto against Danny’s chest causing the teen’s skin to twitch, his spine to shudder in a fresh aftershock of pleasure. 

Only when Danny lets out a desperate whine does Skulker reluctantly release the boy’s softening cock, moving his open hand instead to press against Danny’s heaving diaphragm, wondering at the flex and flow of his halfa body as it seeks to regain equilibrium.

It takes a while for them to fall back into themselves. 

For long minutes there’s nothing but panting and a faint hissing and pinging from deep within Skulker’s inner workings. 

“Fuck _me_.” Danny swears when his tongue can form words again. His hands slip from their death grip on Skulker’s neck, his body flopping back down to the mattress, hands landing next to his head in an unwittingly vulnerable position. 

Skulker blinks to focus on the sight of his younger lover. When his vision sharpens he finds himself unable to do anything other than just stare. The hunter’s massive, barrel chest glints in the light of the room’s candles while he heaves in the atmosphere he needs to cool his systems. 

After a long minute of contemplation he huffs a laugh and leans forward to press his stiff metal lips gently against Danny’s flushed breast bone in a fond kiss. “If you insist.”

It takes a moment for Danny to process Skulker’s words. When he does, he tips his head to the side with a frown. Abruptly he cranes his neck to see if he can take a peek-

When Skulker had this body built he knew it needed to be the best, better than the human-like constructs that most ghosts formed naturally upon death. 

“Oh-” Danny whispers, lamely, his eyes huge as he catches sight of Skulker’s still very prominent erection, the larger man’s hips conscientiously tipped back just enough to avoid stimulating Danny any further while he’s coming down from post-orgasm sensitivity. 

“Round two?” Skulker murmurs against Danny’s chest, and the ghostly flesh and bone beneath his metal lips shivers with a giddy, breathless laugh. 

15

Danny has been aware of his interest in men for a while. Sure, the thought of Paulina still does something decidedly flip-floppy to his guts, but a teenage libido and access to the internet has found him sneaking onto other playing fields on more than one occasion. 

He’s never been much bothered by it. On the grand scale of things, any concerns he might have had over being bisexual pale in comparison to this whole half-ghost situation. 

Recently he’s been thinking that he might... experiment a bit out in college. Those were the years for it, right? To do something new. _Someone _new.__

__But seriously, ask him what he’s thinking now? Yeah right._ _

__No amount of experimentation will compare to this._ _

__Because _fuck/ _-___ _

____Three thick, firm fingers that he never in his life would have called _gentle_ before tonight thrust and twist inside him, stretching him with a careful, methodical determination which is frankly _terrifying_ -_ _ _ _

____“Skulker-” Danny gasps out, head spinning, straining but getting nowhere. His thin wrists had been gathered up right when they started in on the anxious pleasure/pain of finger two and they’ve been pressed to the pillows above his head by one of Skulker’s massive hands ever since._ _ _ _

____“Not until I say.” The Hunter growls, and Danny moans helplessly because he wants something more. Even through the caution of one and two Danny knew he was holding out for _more_. Every fiber of his being was telling him to press on into the real glory, press forward into true pleasure and _Skulker just wouldn’t let him have it_._ _ _ _

____Those fingers push back in on a particularly aggressive thrust, curling up and sliding over his prostate, massaging it in a way which has Danny’s hips bucking up beyond his control. There’s this white hot flair of delight which slams through his abdomen and spurs him to aimless writhing, needing to shift, needing to contribute, needing _more_. _ _ _ _

____Skulker’s little finger teases at his rim, daring him with its presence. Will he take it? Can he take everything Skulker’s got?_ _ _ _

____Danny tugs against Skulker’s grip on his wrists, the muscles of his rectum clenching rhythmically around the hand penetrating him, squeezing in a desperate sort of welcome. He needs it, needs it so badly, he’ll take anything, he can handle it._ _ _ _

____“Danny-”_ _ _ _

____Danny doesn’t respond, lost in the sensation burning through him, his thoughts dizzy and swampy and tumbling through him too quick to catch. He wonders if he could come just from this: Just Skulker’s giant fingers rubbing that spot inside him so thoroughly, coaxing him a little bit higher, a little bit more-_ _ _ _

____“Danny-”_ _ _ _

____The halfa pants noisily, eyes unfocused, balls drawing up close to his body, stomach muscles tensing because he is _close-__ _ _ _

____Without warning those fingers tug themselves away and that beautiful, torturous pleasure is gone._ _ _ _

____Danny lets loose a cry only _just_ short of a ghostly wail, his ass clamping down unhappily on all that abrupt emptiness inside him. It’s like a bucket of cold water and his eyes go wide, his mouth twisted in an expression that’s nearly pain._ _ _ _

____“Danny.” Skulker growls and the teen’s eyes snap onto Skulker’s, eyelashes traitorously wet as he narrows his gaze on his bedmate._ _ _ _

____“ _What?!_ ” he snarls._ _ _ _

____The grin on Skulker’s face is anything but apologetic and Danny has a sudden and intense urge to put up a proper fight, get loose, and punch that look away._ _ _ _

____Shudders wrack his body as his nerves continue to cry out for stimulation, seeking more from his bedmate, more pleasure, more stretch, more _something_. He feels woozy and breathless and It takes him a moment to process when Skulker whispers to him. “Ready?”_ _ _ _

____“Fuck, _yes-_ ” Danny growls as it all catches up with him, tugging at Skulker’s death grip on his wrists, humping up into the air, angling his hips in a way that he hopes will entice. “Do it, do it, do it. Come on Skulker, _please_.”_ _ _ _

____The hunter is a jerk but he’s not cruel. A low rumble in his chest vibrates through them both, and then he’s _doing it.__ _ _ _

____Despite what felt like an hour of prep Skulker still goes so _slow._ His member isn’t ludicrously large, but it is _a lot_ , and Danny’s little pink tongue falls out of his open, panting mouth as Skulker fits the head of his cock against the spasming entrance, the appendage dripping in ectoplasm and hot in the hunter’s hand as he guides himself into the young man’s tight, clenching hole. He finds purchase and with a fresh growl he pushes forward slow, slow, slow - inch after hot, wet, inexorable fraction of an inch. _ _ _ _

____“You are incredible, Danny.” Skulker murmurs, voice so low its nearly not a voice at all, just a wrecked sort of rumble escaping Skulker’s chest because the ghost _can’t help it_. This creature just shreds every ounce of self control he has. And he _loves it_._ _ _ _

____Danny whimpers, his eyes shut, his toes curling at the small of Skulker’s back, his brows drawn close together. His pale thighs are squeezing desperately at Skulker’s waist, shivers racing down his legs as he submits wholly to the Hunter’s whims. He’s captured, he’s pinned, he’s mounted. His entire existence is boiled down in this moment to holding still for this glorious, hot, hard cock stretching him deeper, deeper, _deeper_ -_ _ _ _

____There’s something in him which feels almost like it’s on the edge of pain, hovering right on the border of **too much** , but with all this adrenaline flooding through his veins it just takes him that much _higher_. He feels wild, witless, _ravenous_ for Skulker’s attentions._ _ _ _

____“Oh _Danny_ -” Skulker growls, endearments boiling up and out of him in a steady torrent of awe struck praise. Danny soaks them up like a sponge, his chest seeming to fill up with some sort of swelling pleasure he can’t quite put his name on and he wails, turning his head into his elbow to try and hide because holy shit this is _so much-__ _ _ _

____When Skulker finally _finally_ bottoms out Danny chokes on a gasp and bears down hard, squeezing so he can feel the way his lover fits into all the right places. His rim flexes around Skulker’s wide base and Danny’s nerves _sing_ , places of pleasure being stimulated for the first time in his life._ _ _ _

____With a sharp snarl Skulker yanks his hips back. The hunter can’t hold back for long, and he just hopes that Danny is ready, because he can’t, he has to. His passion blows over him like a hurricane and he lets out a guttural vocalization, nearly drowning out Danny’s responding keens._ _ _ _

____“Fuck, _Danny-_ ”_ _ _ _

____And Danny _howls_ , desperate pleasure unleashed as Skulker slams home and liquid fire scorches through his veins. _ _ _ _

____Skulker’s thrusts come fast, nearly uncoordinated in their desperate intensity, and Danny loves it. He’s positively writhing under the larger man, tears at the corners of his eyes because it’s so much, so much, too much, too _good-__ _ _ _

____“Sk-s-SKULKER-” He chokes out, moaning low and long as Skulker buries himself and just holds there for a long moment, savoring the rolling clench of Danny’s body, his muscles sucking hungrily at his cock._ _ _ _

____“Fuck, you’re glorious.” The ghost growls, massive tremors quaking through his metal skeleton as the pleasure of this young man, this body, this ferocious coupling assaults him._ _ _ _

____Danny moans out something garbled, probably sassy, and Skulker grins at the dribble of gibberish, delighted to turn some quippy comeback into liquid nonsense. A thin line of drool is coming from Danny’s mouth and the young man hasn’t even noticed, his eyes slitted open again but glazed and half focused, wild looking as his breath hitches on Skulker’s taunting withdrawal of his cock, a primal snarl on the massive ghost’s lips as he slams forward again, wrenching another yell out of his bedmate._ _ _ _

____“Fuck, fuck, _fuck-_ ” Skulker continues his swearing, reaching up to cradle Danny’s hip, curling his body over his partner as his thrusts shorten and speed up, eager for release, aching to fill the halfa up. _ _ _ _

____Danny’s fingers twist in Skulker’s hold, still pinned above his head. He pulls against the larger man’s grip with a frantic sort of whine. Skulker releases him immediately and just as quickly finds himself wrapped up tight in Danny’s arms. The smaller man curls himself so his head is pressed against Skulker’s neck, his mouth open and panting wet and wanting against his partner._ _ _ _

____Skulker growls, hunching himself forward to curl even more fully around this man, to hold him close. One hand moves around to slide up that delicate spine possessively, dragging with bruising need over the soft, pale flesh. His other hand slides down Danny’s front, taking a moment to toy with those nipples, barely touched in this first foray - _and won’t_ that _have to be remedied shortly_ \- before skimming down his abdomen to find the wet, hungry cock just begging for a touch. _ _ _ _

____“Are you ready? Think you can go again?”_ _ _ _

____Against his neck the teenager makes a motion somewhere between a nod and shake and confirmation or denial Skulker doesn’t have it in him to process. The soft, slick, synthetic flesh of his palm wraps around the young man in greedy fondness and starts to jack him off rapidly to the same tempo of their fucking._ _ _ _

____Danny makes an abortive sort of yelp then goes quiet, desperate, tense sort of pants crowding his throat as his muscles tighten, legs gripping, straining because he’s nearly, nearly-_ _ _ _

____Skulker growls as low as he can, squeezes just a touch tighter, his thumb pushing encouragingly at the underside of Danny’s cock just beneath the head, and that’s it._ _ _ _

____With a long, animal whine Danny starts to come. He bucks out of time, pushing up into Skulker’s hand, back into Skulker’s still thrusting hips, riding between two points of molten pleasure, his vision whiting out at the corners and his face a rictus of sweet disbelief._ _ _ _

____With one last snarl Skulker yanks Danny’s head away from his neck so he can dive down and seal their mouths together, sucking desperately on the boy’s lips and tongue, his cock swelling as his orgasm surges through him, the fluids inside him rushing out to fill Danny up._ _ _ _

____“You gonna take it all for me? Gonna be good?” Skulker pants._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, fuck. Yeah, all yours.” Danny mutters, breathless, eyes shut tight as he twitches and whines through another spat of aftershocks, a little dribble of come spurting meekly from his smaller cock._ _ _ _

____And that’s it. Skulker’s man enough to admit it. He’s in love with this kid._ _ _ _

____He whines himself as a particularly sweet roll of pleasure works his way through his nerves and he pushes hard against Danny, wanting to sow everything he can deep and safe and warm inside his partner._ _ _ _

____Danny lets out a little breath, like he’s ready to speak, but no words come, just a trembling sort of gasp, his arms still tight around Skulker’s shoulders, his body still clenching and releasing around the larger male’s length, riding the pleasure for as long as he can._ _ _ _

____Skulker doesn’t want to pull out, not even after cock’s been wrung dry and he’s starting to soften inside the younger halfa._ _ _ _

____With a groan he tilts to the side, trying to arrange the slim pale legs of his bedmate comfortably between them as he flops against the bed, still partially buried in that beautiful body._ _ _ _

____“You’re perfect.” Skulker admits before he can help himself, stroking Danny’s shaking thigh, he young man’s legs still spread wide over Skulker’s hips and the teen shudders.  
“Not so bad yourself.” Danny makes his own concession with a grin, eyes bright when he dares to open them, meeting Skulker’s gaze with an impish look on his face and this boy is just _too much_. _ _ _ _

____“You have to live.” Skulker blurts out suddenly, not anxious but passionate, his fiery eyes boring their way into Danny’s, raking over the young man’s face._ _ _ _

____For a moment Danny doesn’t respond, processing. Then he frowns, looking at his partner in exasperation. “That’s the plan big guy. Don’t ruin the after glow, just trust me, okay?”_ _ _ _

____“I just want you to understand why-“_ _ _ _

____“Skulker.” Danny whines. “I get it, I do. Let’s be friends. Let’s be... whatever. It’s cool. Let’s keep me alive. But please, for now, can we just nap? I’m totally zonked.”_ _ _ _

____Skulker bites his tongue (not literally, lest be bite it off) and keeps his protestations to himself._ _ _ _

____Let him savor the moment. Daniel is here, in his bed, safe and warm and protected._ _ _ _

____What a glorious creature. What a glorious prize._ _ _ _

____“Let’s be friends.” Skulker agrees lamely after a minute, and Danny just hums, already mostly asleep, the arm he has wrapped around Skulker’s shoulders flapping lamely in a reassuring pat._ _ _ _

____Danny’s asleep before Skulker’s cock deflates enough to retract fully from his body. Skulker is awake and frowning, his hand reaching down to press against his partner’s entrance, feeling oddly bereft now that they’re separated._ _ _ _

____He has plans to redraw. Documents to redraft, timelines to rehash- but this will work. It will be more glorious than ever._ _ _ _

____Skulker wraps his free arm more securely around his bad mate, and stares determinedly into the darkness._ _ _ _

____Yes, this will work._ _ _ _

____16_ _ _ _

____It’s October of Freshman year and Danny’s getting the hang of it, mostly. He goes to his classes on time and enjoys three out of the four so that feels pretty good. There’s a Bad Movie Lover’s club on Thursday nights that he goes to most week with Sam and Tucker and they’re managing to make new friends despite the imposing quality of their tight knit unit. Sam’s roommate turns out to be fine, just a bit of a weirdo stoner and really, everything’s going great._ _ _ _

____He pulls the lever on the cereal dispenser in the cafeteria and a pile of sugar poofs rapidly tumbles into his bowl. He blinks blearily at the cereal before straightening up and turning his tray towards where they keep the milk and coffee._ _ _ _

____Before he can make it across the room however there’s a loud CRACK and the distinct sound of a laser gun powering up. Even as Danny’s ghost senses start pinging he just sighs and squeezes his eyes shut as a beam of blue light blasts his green plastic bowl of sugar into smitherines._ _ _ _

____“DON’T EAT TRASH.” An otherworldly voice howls and all around him underclassmen are screaming, abandoning their not-so-nutritious breakfasts as they run for cover._ _ _ _

____Sam wanders by with her own bowl of oatmeal and casts her friend a baleful look. “I totally warned you Danny.”_ _ _ _

____“She did, yeah.” Tucker calls out from where he’s taking shelter under a counter._ _ _ _

____Danny’s lips twitch inspite of himself and he looks up at the smirking ghost hunter with a mix of exasperation and fond amusement._ _ _ _

____“Oh yeah? And how are you gonn stop me?” He goads, tossing his tray to the side since it now has a smoking hole through it._ _ _ _

____Skulker’s lips stretch into an all out grin._ _ _ _

____“Challenge accepted.”_ _ _ _


End file.
